


Giving Thanks

by KatieHavok, Kemara



Series: Doors [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Siblings, Swearing, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemara/pseuds/Kemara
Summary: Newt and Tina return to New York to spend Thanksgiving with their unusual family.





	Giving Thanks

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Welcome to a Kowalski/Scamander/Graves Thanksgiving. This story features tons of food, siblings being siblings (and Theseus being Theseus), lots of fluff and only a tiny bit of angst. Enjoy!

**November 24, 1927**

New York is larger and smellier than either of them remember.

Newt walks around with a perpetually wrinkled nose, frowning while sidestepping the holiday morning crowds. Tina squeezes his hand reassuringly as they look around at all the buildings and people piled atop each other, choking on exhaust like tourists until they enter a quieter street with matching sighs of relief.

The enticing scent of doughnuts and rye bread tickles their noses, quickening their step until they come up short in front of sparkling plate glass. _Kowalski Quality Baked Goods_ , the fancy lettering proudly proclaims, and Tina executes a happy little hop right there in the street before bullying her way through the door.

Jacob spots them immediately, bellowing out a greeting while wading through his customers to envelop them both in a warm, cinnamon-scented hug.

“The world travelers are back!” he cries, thumping Newt on the back as he squeezes Tina with one arm. “How you guys doin’?”

“We're well, Jacob,” Newt says with a strained smile. “A bit unused to the hustle of the city, but happy to be home.”

“Ain’t no place like it,” Jacob laughs and releases them to return to the cash wrap. “Hey, you guys can go on up – door’s around the back, you remember, yeah?” He grins beneath his neat mustache, brown eyes twinkling. “Queenie’s waitin’ for ya. Especially you, Tina.”

Tina takes Newt’s hand to wade through the crush of bodies, leading him into a side alley and up a set of stairs. The door is flung open when they are less than halfway up, a familiar silhouette backlit by golden light calling a greeting. Queenie’s heels clatter down the steps before she flings her arms around Tina, squealing a greeting that makes Newt flinch away from the sisters, covering his ears. She laughs while turning to him, pulling him into a gentler version of the embrace.

“I’m sorry, Newt,” Queenie says with a wet giggle, squeezing him close. “I know the sound hurts your ears. I’m just really excited to see you both.”

Newt returns her embrace, noticing a new softness in her figure as she kisses his cheek with sisterly affection. He recalls the unexpected letter they’d received in September and wonders if this is confirmation of her suspicion.

Queenie huffs out a short breath, nodding for his benefit before murmuring, just beneath his ear, “Let’s keep that between us for now, yeah?”

He squeezes her arm twice to signal his understanding before stepping back and reaching for Tina. “It’s good to see you, too,” he says truthfully and grins when Queenie slips her arms through her sister's, leading them up the stairs.

* * *

There are more surprises in store when they step into the good-smelling kitchen.

Queenie takes their jackets, rapping a mile a minute with Tina and allowing Newt a chance to look around curiously as he sets his case down by the door. The apartment is generously proportioned and comfortably-furnished, even if the decor is second-hand. Every burner on the large stove has been pressed into service, spoons, and spatulas whizzing through the air as sauces and fillings prepare themselves.

Beside the stove, a dark-haired figure stands glaring down at the cutting board as if it’s personally offended him. Newt clears his throat before cautiously stepping into the kitchen area. The figure whirls on him, brandishing his knife threateningly, but that isn’t what makes Newt dissolves in a coughing fit to hide his laughter.

The vision of stern Percival Graves dressed in a frilly pink apron, with flour dusted over his cheeks and ruffled hair is not a sight he’ll soon forget.

Graves set down his knife before leaning against the counter, the picture of forced casualness. “You know,” he drawls, “it isn’t polite to laugh at guests, Scamander. It’s considered bad manners.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Newt shoots back, “because I’m not a guest. I’m _family,_ last I checked.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Percival growls, rolling his eyes expressively. “It’s still not polite. Especially if you’re going to force your guests into cutting carrots the no-maj way because _‘it isn’t fair to poor Jakey'_.” He adopts a grating falsetto for this last bit, and Newt snorts through his nose before joining him in laughter, effectively breaking the tension.

“It’s good to see you well, Director Graves,” Newt says sincerely, shaking his hand.

Graves shakes his head before clasping his shoulder, his lips pulling into a smirk. “Call me Percival or Percy, please,” he reminds Newt.

Newt inclines his head in acknowledgment before flicking his wand at the counter, causing the remaining pile of carrots to clean, peel and cut themselves.

“What Queenie doesn’t know won’t hurt you,” he says conspiratorially and winks before wandering into the living room in search of his wife.

“Speak for yourself, Scamander,” drifts grumpily from behind him, and Newt’s grinning when he drops a kiss on Tina’s cheek, careful not to disturb her as she and Queenie catch up.

* * *

Percival produces a bottle of fine aged whiskey when Jacob returns after having closed the shop early, offering a toast to his hosts.

“You’re family too, now,” Queenie sniffles before taking a dainty sip from the edge of Jacob’s glass.

Percival twists his hands in his lap to hide his pleased discomfort, and Newt allows him privacy by looking away, watching his wife stare dreamily out the window.

“All right, there?” he asks quietly, leaning in to follow her line of sight.

“Hmmm?” Tina turns to him, blinking rapidly as she returns to the present before ducking her head. “Oh, yes, of course. I’m fine.” She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear in direct contradiction of her words, lower lip caught firmly between her teeth.

Newt looks from Tina to Queenie, who is positively glowing at the center of the room, flush with her husband’s attention, and furrows his eyebrows. “We’ll talk later if you’d like,” he offers, keeping his voice pitched low while drawing senseless shapes into the back of her hand. She looks up to smile at him, and he nods before leaning forward to capture her lips. “I promise,” he murmurs into her mouth, and is rewarded with a deeper kiss, her fingers carding through his hair.

Percival makes a rough gagging sound before tossing a throw pillow at the back of his head. “We did not need to see that, Scamander!” he chides, smirking when Newt sends him a glare.

Tina is too busy blushing at her lap to rise to her boss’ taunts, and Newt manfully wrestles down the urge to verbally eviscerate Percival in favor of cupping her cheek. “Later,” he says again, more firmly, and holds her eyes until Percival makes another obnoxious sound and Queenie and Jacob laugh.

“It would seem someone’s been hanging around Theseus too long,” Newt says caustically while whirling on Percival, who smirks infuriatingly before smoothing his hands over the front of his shirt.

“Who do you think taught him?” he asks, and they all have to laugh at that.

Newt raises his glass in a mock salute before draining it and scrubbing his upper lip. “Theo always was a bit of an arse,” he grants, “but he _was_ worse after the war, now that I think of it.”

“That’s all me,” Percival preens, and offers to top off the glasses scattered over the coffee table. Everyone save Newt declines, and Graves crows happily as they clink glasses, smirking when they toss back their drinks in unison.

“That is good stuff,” Newt mumbles, squinting into the depths of his empty glass. “Where did you get it?”

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Percival intones dryly. “Your brother gave it to me, believe it or not.”

Newt’s opening his mouth to respond when a heavy knock rings throughout the apartment. They share confused looks until a voice calls from behind the door, one with a familiar accent and a distinctive devil-may-care attitude lacing its words.

“I heard that Percy!” the disembodied voice calls. “See if I send you a bottle of Ogden’s Special Reserve again, you fucking wanker!”

Percival chokes on his drink.

Newt roars laughter while climbing to his feet to make his wobbly way across the floor, flinging open the door to admit Theseus, his blue eyes crinkled into a mischievous grin.

“Little brother!” he cries, pulling a stiffly resisting, pouting Newt into a rib-cracking hug. He tightens his grip until Newt wheezes before letting him go to enthusiastically shake him by the shoulders, beaming and seemingly already half drunk. “Married life suits you, eh?”

“You could say that,” Newt bites off, puffing out his cheeks indignantly before grinning and playfully shoving his brother. “Who on earth invited you, arsehole?”

“Language!” Queenie cries primly, before smirking. “And I did. I thought you’d like to see each other.”

“Besides that,” Theseus says, tackling his younger brother to pin him in a headlock and rapidly scraping his knuckles across his scalp, causing Newt to squawk indignantly. “I’m the life of the party – I don’t _need_ an invitation!”

Newt twists sharply, breaking his brother’s hold and punching him well below the belt in one swift motion. Theseus wheezes out a pained-sounding laugh while hunching over, tenderly cupping his groin as his face flushes red. “I deserved that,” he gasps, and mimes waving a white flag. “Peace, please, unless you want to be solely responsible for carrying on the family name, Newton.”

“I’d be doing your future wife a _favor_ ,” Newt sniffs and returns to Tina’s side to pour himself another drink, hands trembling minutely. “And how many times do I have to say it? _Don’t_ call me _Newton!_ ”

Percival drags his hands over his face before looking at Queenie, his eyes shining with mirth. “Are you sure this was a good idea?” he asks. “I don’t know if it’s safe having them in the same room for dinner, never mind the whole weekend.”

“ _Weekend?!_ ” Newt yelps, just as Theseus laughs and chucks Graves on the arm. Percival nods and mumbles a greeting before making room for the other man on the couch, turning to him to talk shop as Queenie deposits herself in Jacob’s lap and Tina puts her arms around Newt, holding him close while stroking his hair.

“It’s okay,” she says soothingly, her lips pressed to the cup of his ear. “I promise, I won’t let him taunt you...too much.” She inhales sharply, and he feels her mouth curl into a smirk when she rakes her fingernails across his scalp, causing goosebumps to chase down his spine. “ _Newton._ ”

“Wench,” he grumbles, but his smile takes the heat out of his words, and nobody admonishes them to stop when he turns his head to kiss her.

* * *

Queenie calls for them to stop drinking when the bottle of whiskey is half empty. “If you all don’t have something to eat, you won’t be awake for dinner. And I won’t have my hard work spoiled.”

Graves mutters something that sounds like, “And mine. Those damned carrots,” beneath his breath.

Theseus opens his mouth to reply, but stops when Queenie gives him a stern look. “Good idea! I’m famished!”

“I’ll bet you had breakfast right before you got here,” Newt says as he helps Tina to her feet. “Glutton.”

Queenie and Jacob set out the makings for sandwiches, and everyone helps themselves while Newt and Tina regale them with stories of their travels.

“So there we were, peacefully looking at the stars when they got the jump on us,” Tina says, handing Newt a glass of pumpkin juice.

“It was my fault,” he says, grimacing. “I’d forgotten to ward our camp, and –”

“I thought I taught you better than that, brother!” Theseus punches him – lightly – on the shoulder, and Newt sends him a nasty look before turning his back.

Percival nods. “And I _know_ I taught you better, Tina.”

Tina shrugs and takes a bite of her sandwich, ignoring their antics. “We were both careless. I don’t think we realized how serious it was. Not then.”

Queenie’s eyes are round as she watches them. “So what happened?”

“Well, they captured Tina...” Newt says, picking at a crust of bread before sighing and looking away.

She rolls her eyes. “Bunch of amateurs.” She grins at Percival, who narrows his eyes. “They tied me up with plain ropes. Can you believe it? I waited until it was fully dark and got free. Only Newt didn’t realize I had...”

“So I sent Ladon in to kindle a small fire.” He sets down his sandwich and reaches for her hand. “Just as a distraction, you know.”

Theseus furrows his brow. “Wait. Ladon? Isn’t that your toy dragon?” he asks Tina.

She nods, flushing slightly. “Yes, but he’s extremely lifelike. At night, with an enlarging charm…”

“I bet they were _shitting_ themselves!” Theseus crows delightedly. “A dragon swooping down like that! I have to admit it was a brilliant idea, Newt!” He thumps Newt on the back, who grimaces down at his shoes. “Probably the first one you’ve ever had.”

Newt tosses the bread crust at Theseus’ head, but there’s no heat behind it. “Well, it would’ve been if Ladon hadn’t gotten just a _smidge_ carried away. And it was a windy night.”

Tina shivers, remembering. “I barely got out of there alive. I managed to apparate to our camp, but of course, Newt wasn’t there.”

He puts an arm around her shoulders. “No. I was outside the _poachers’_ camp watching as it went up in flames and took half the forest with it.” He presses a kiss to Tina’s temple. “I thought they still had you. I was terrified.”

Tina lays her head on his shoulder, sliding her arm around his waist. “And I had no idea where you were. I thought one of those idiots had started the fire – not you. Well, Ladon.”

Jacob leans forward, sandwich lying forgotten on his plate. “So how’d ya find each other?” he asks, eyes wide. “And what happened to the poachers?”

“We apparated back and forth, missing each other for hours while the fire just got bigger,” Newt says. “Finally, I packed up our camp and left Tina a note to meet me at the Minneapolis field office.”

“And luckily I saw it. So we met up again about dawn, I guess?” Newt nods. “Yeah, sometime around then. The local aurors went in and mopped things up. Arrested most of the poachers – those who weren’t caught in the fire.”

Graves shakes his head. “And that was just your first assignment. I should’ve known then things would only get worse from there on out.”

“ _Worse?_ ” Queenie squeaks. Her sandwich is only nibbled, and Tina frowns remembering how Queenie had mentioned in her letters about being hungry all the time.

“You’re not eating, sis?” She makes a mental note to get Queenie alone later and ask the much more important question if she and Jacob don’t bring it up first.

Queenie waves an airy hand. “Oh, sometimes I get really hungry, but it comes and goes. Besides, I want to save room for dinner. Jacob made a gorgeous caramel cake for dessert.”  
  
Sandwiches pause halfway to mouths and forks return to plates as everyone considers this news. Jacob gives a proud smile. “My mom’s recipe. Just wait ‘til you taste it.”

“In that case….” Percival pushes his plate aside. “Let's start cooking.”

* * *

They divide up the work, and Queenie sends Theseus and Percival back to the vegetables.

“As long as I don’t have to wear that fucking apron again,” Percival grumbles, and Theseus digs an elbow into his side.

“I hate that I missed that. You’ll have to give me a private fashion show later.”

Percival digs back, harder. “Shut up.”

“I’ll tell Mam to let you help with Christmas dinner this year since you’ve had so much practice.” Theseus glances at Queenie before waving a hand at the pile of vegetables, which peel and slice themselves.

“I heard that, Theseus Scamander!” Queenie doesn’t turn from where she’s dressing a huge turkey for the oven.

Percival grins. “Can’t get anything past her, Thes.”

He pouts. “Hey, I had to try. You are coming for Christmas, right?” He turns to the room at large and raises his voice. “I almost forgot: You’re all invited to the Manor for the holidays. We have plenty of room and you can stay for as long as you like.”

“Really?” Queenie and Jacob share an incredulous look. “Even us?” Jacob asks, and everyone hears his unspoken, “Even me?”

“Of course!” Theseus waves his hand, and Percival jumps back to avoid a swipe with the paring knife he’s still holding. “Mam asked for you two especially. She said she’s looking forward to having a house full again. These days it’s just her and Da and the house elves.”

Tina bites her lip. “It would be nice not to have to say goodbye again so soon…” She glances at Newt, who abandons his onions and dried herbs to excitedly squeeze her hand.

“But how long would we stay?” The idea of having more time with the sister she hasn’t seen in months is clearly tempting to Queenie. “We got the bakery and all to think about.”

“I think Ken can handle the bakery for a while,” Jacob reassures her, raising a questioning eyebrow at Theseus.

“Through the new year, certainly,” Theseus says expansively. “And longer if you like.”

Jacob nods slowly. “I’ll have to hire a few more people, but that won’t be a problem with the holidays and all. I think we can do it doll, if you want to go?”

“Yes!” Queenie claps her hands like a little girl. “It’ll be the bee’s knees!” She turns to Tina and Newt. “We can help you get settled in your new place, too.”

“Once we find it,” Newt says. “I’m not sure what’s available to rent at the moment.”

Theseus beams. “That’s settled then. I’ll get with Mam and let you know about the details.”

When the kitchen is once more full of busy noise, Percival leans in, speaking out of the side of his mouth. “I take it there’s more to this than just filling up your parents’ house?”

“Why, Percy, my dear, you do have a suspicious little mind!” Theseus claps a hand to his chest in mock-outrage before dropping a broad wink.

“Ass. Seriously though.” Percival lays down his knife and jerks his head toward the open door of a nearby guest bedroom, the only place even remotely private. They step inside and pull the door nearly shut.

“There is, but it’s nothing I can talk about right now, not even to you Perce.” Theseus’ expression is serious, all trace of humor gone. “All I can say is that things are hotting up, and this will definitely be a working vacation.”

Percival huffs and jams his hands into his pockets. “I figured. No rest for the wicked.”

“Perce...” Theseus studies his face. “I keep meaning to ask how things are going.”

The other man shrugs. “About as well as they have been since January. No one says anything outright, but I can tell they don’t trust me like before. And I’m not just being paranoid, Thes…they really don’t. And my team, they’re good people, but – it’s not the same anymore.”

Theseus steps close and grips Percival’s shoulder. “You know the Ministry of Magic would be more than happy to have you on our side of the pond,” he says softly.

“I’m sure they would.” Percival turns away and puts a hand on the door, but before he can open it further, Theseus stops him by touching his jaw.

“And so would I, Perce.”

Percival shivers before smirking. “Would you now?”

“Percival! Theseus!” Newt’s voice interrupts them. “Stop snogging in there, you two, and help us bring up dessert!”

Theseus glares at his brother through the door. “I’m going to kill him,” he says cheerfully, but not before sweeping his thumb over Percival’s lip.

“I think his wife – who also happens to be your sister-in-law – might object to that,” Percival says dryly. “She’s one of my best so let’s not piss her off, okay?”

“Well, if you insist,” Theseus pouts and squeezes Graves’ hand before putting a respectable distance between them.

They share a long, complicated look before stepping through the door as one, and they each pretend not to notice the knowing smile Queenie sends their way before Newt drags them down the rickety back steps, talking a mile a minute about Niffler-shaped snowflake rolls as Jacob beams behind him.

* * *

The table has to be expanded to fit all of them and more importantly, all the food.

“I believe this is one holiday we shall have to adopt, even in England,” Newt says, surveying the spread of turkey, gravy, stuffing, squash, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry jelly, the aforementioned Niffler-shaped rolls and countless other things. The caramel cake and two pies wait on the sideboard.

Theseus spreads a napkin over his lap with the expression of a man determined to do his duty or die in the attempt. “Too true, little brother! You Yanks really know how to celebrate.”

“I guess we have you Brits to thank for it,” Percival smirks and everyone groans when Theseus mimes a dramatic death scene before ignoring him to tuck into the meal.

For some time after that, the only sounds are the clink of knives and forks and requests to, “pass the butter, please.”

Setting down his wineglass, Jacob turns to Newt and Tina. “So what else did you two get up to? Can’t imagine anything more exciting than setting a forest fire!”

“Well, after that, we went to Arizona to visit Frank,” Newt says. “He’s doing wonderfully! No lady friend yet, but that’s not surprising – thunderbirds are rare creatures, and you’re lucky to see one, let alone two.” He glances at his wife with a small smile and Queenie giggles.

“Says the man who’s got one for himself.”

“You two are _revolting_ ,” Graves mutters, helping himself to another slice of turkey. “Must I be the only dignified person in the room?”

“I can fix that.” Theseus picks up a roll and chucks it at Percival, hitting him squarely between the eyes before he has time to duck.

“Children!” Queenie is laughing along with the rest of them. “What is it with you boys and throwing things? Your poor mother.”

Theseus and Newt grin at each other. “Mam never would stand for us being rowdy at the table did she?”

“No, she’d rap us with a knife handle.” Newt rubs the top of his head, remembering. “It hurt so much we stopped instantly.”

“Oh really....?” Tina picks up the knife beside her plate and hefts it experimentally. “I’ll have to remember that. Thank you for mentioning it.”

Newt looks nervous and hurries to drag the conversation back on track. “Anyway…after Arizona, we stayed in the area to look for the North Shore Monster in Utah. Didn’t find it, although we did ruin the day of some of Grindelwald’s supporters. Where did we go after that?”

“South to Louisiana where we picked up that Rougarou,” Tina says. “And Florida. We were hunting a Skunk Ape,” she tells the table at large. “But Newt ended up pissing off an alligator in the Everglades just when we got close.”

He hums in agreement. “I had no idea they could move so quickly.”

Queenie’s fork is forgotten halfway to her mouth. “Oh, Newt honey, that’s….”

“What?” Theseus looks from one to the other. “Little brother, what did you do this time? Obviously, you survived, so maybe I don’t want to know.”

Tina rolls her eyes. “He scared ten years off my life is what he did!”

“We were in a boat going through the swamp –” Newt begins, ignoring their concerned stares.

“It was more like a native canoe,” Tina interrupts bitterly. “But I guess it was slightly better than that excuse for a boat we had in Connecticut.”

Newt gives his wife a fond look. “They were both perfectly seaworthy, my dear.”

Theseus clears his throat. “Anyway...”

“So, we were mostly scanning the trees above us for the Skunk Ape,” Newt continues, helping himself to more stuffing. “Usually you can smell them – hence the name – but the swamp had its own odor.”

“Did it ever!” Tina says, grimacing around a swig of her wine. “I had to throw away what I was wearing that day – couldn't get the smell out, or the bloodstains. But the point is, we weren’t watching the banks.”

Percival leans back in his chair. “Let me guess: the alligator was lying in wait?”

“Yep. We came around a bend and it charged straight at us. We never did figure out why.”

“Were you wearing your coat, Newton?” Theseus drawls. “I imagine the sight of its electric blue coloring was enough to enrage the creature.”

Newt grimaces but doesn’t rise to the bait. “As a matter of fact, I wasn’t. In any case, we were intruders on its territory. It had every right to attack us.”

“I can’t believe you’re still _defending_ it!” Tina says hotly. “It _dragged_ Newt out of the boat –”

“Its tooth caught on my sleeve,” Newt protests. “It didn’t mean to!” He unbuttons his cuff, to display a long, jagged scar on his forearm.

“It was this close to a vein,” Tina says holding her fingers an half an inch apart. “It nearly got infected from the swamp water. Luckily we had a lot of essence of dittany.”

“ _None_ of which compares to the state of my underpants when all was said and done,” Newt drawls, reaching for his glass to drain it as the table erupts into laughter.

“How did you escape?” Percival asks curiously. “Don’t alligators roll to kill their prey?” When Tina looks at him in surprise, he shrugs. “I visited Seraphina on school breaks. They have alligators in the Savannah River.”

“I disapparated,” Newt says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Gave Tina a bit of a start but she was just happy to see me in one piece.” He swallows and looks at her meekly from beneath his fringe. “There was quite a lot of blood, you see.”

Queenie swallows and pushes her plate aside, showing a brittle smile when Theseus raises his eyebrow questioningly. “I’m not very comfortable with that topic being discussed at the dinner table,” she says and shares a look with Jacob before grinning. “Actually, maybe you’re right honey, now’s as good a time as any…”

She squeezes his hand when every eye in the room focuses on them, only to demurely smile down at the tablecloth. “I ain’t been feelin’ very well lately,” she says slowly, “and since Jakey and I – well, we’re married, ain’t we? So there’s a thing we should expect to happen, and they don’t always keep to their own schedule, you know.” He beams at her encouragingly, and she returns his smile before speaking into Tina’s eyes. “Turns out, the reason I ain’t been feelin’ so peachy is because we’re gonna have a baby!”

In the resulting cacophony of cheers and good wishes, Newt is the only one to notice the stricken expression on Tina’s face even when she grabs Queenie in a fierce hug. As Theseus and Percival pour Jacob a stiff drink and loudly toast the father-to-be, Tina quietly slips into the guest bedroom.

“I’ll...” Queenie starts to get up, but Newt stops her.

“No, let me. I know what’s wrong.”

Queenie’s eyes fill with tears. “So do I. Newt, I’m sorry...”

He leans down to kiss her cheek. “You’ve done nothing to be sorry for, you know. We’re both happy for you.”

Tina is staring out the window with the lights off when he enters the room and closes the door softly behind him. “I don’t want to talk about it, Queenie,” she says in a monotone, only to turn and go into his arms when he settles gentle hands on her shoulders.

“I’m a terrible sister,” she mumbles into his chest.

He strokes her hair. “Why do you think that?”

“Because I can’t be happy for her without thinking about myself.”

Newt considers for a moment. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he decides, stroking her back soothingly, “but would you like a child of our own? Is that why you’re upset?” He rocks them slightly, waiting patiently for her answer.

Tina sniffs and pulls away to look up at him. “I’m not sure...Sometimes I do – when Queenie sent that letter back in September, I started thinking about it.” She traces a finger down his nose. “I wouldn’t mind a little boy with your freckles.” She sighs and presses a kiss to the bare skin of his neck. “Then I think about the state of the world and I wonder if this is a good time to have a child, but if not now then when? Grindelwald isn’t going away anytime soon, we aren’t getting any younger, yet...”

“Yet still, you _want_ ,” Newt murmurs thoughtfully, and shifts to kiss her. “My sweet Porpentina, who so _rarely_ wants anything for herself.”

She laughs shakily and wipes away a couple of tears that escape. “I guess I do.”

He studies her, head to one side. “That’s not all though. If it was only that, you would’ve come to me months ago.” She makes as if to look away, and he cups her chin in his hand to keep her in place, his thumb stroking her cheek. “What is it, love?”

He can’t see her blush in the dim light, but her skin warms beneath his palm.

“The…syphilis…It’s really gone, isn’t it? I know the healer said it could hurt a baby…”

He pulls her to him. “Yes, it’s gone. But if you want we can see a healer before we leave for England. Would that help put your mind at ease?”

She sighs, some of the tension leaving her body. “I think it would,” she admits and tips her head back to meet his eyes. “Um, how long do you think we have to wait? Before we leave, I mean.”

Newt muffles his chuckle in her hair. “Eager, are we?” he asks and grins when she nods before squeezing him around the waist. “How do two weeks sound?”

“That sounds perfect,” Tina breathes, and lifts his freshly-scarred wrist to her mouth, kissing it forgivingly as he holds his breath. “And you’re sure you want to do this? With me, I mean? A baby – it’s a lot of responsibility, Newt. Are you positive that we’re ready for that?”

“I think we’re used to responsibility, don’t you?” He smiles, teasingly. “After all, what’s one more creature? We have plenty of room.” He nuzzles her cheek, depositing a kiss on a hidden dimple before musing aloud, “What sort of habitat does a human baby require, anyway? Do you know? Some grass, maybe some fresh air...trees...that sort of thing?”

Tina laughs and playfully slaps him on the chest. “He or she will just need us,” she says and ruffles his hair when he ducks his head. “You and me, and our love. Clean diapers, warm blankets, and maybe some milk every now and then.”

Newt nods before sliding his hand over her stomach to gently cup her breast. “Guess I’ll have to get used to the idea of sharing these,” he rumbles and grins when she makes an outraged sound before moving in for a kiss, swallowing her protests. She gives herself to it completely, threading her arms around his shoulders to pull him close, and they’re both breathless when they separate.

A knock on the door makes them start. “You two okay in there?” Theseus calls. “Newton, you’d better not be behaving improperly with all of us in the next room, or Mam shall never hear the end of it!”

Newt strides to the door and yanks it open. Theseus, who’d been leaning heavily against it to eavesdrop, pitches forward to land in a graceless sprawl as everyone in the living room laughs. “Nice of you to drop in,” Newt quips dryly and rolls his eyes before taking Tina’s hand to help her step over his body, primly smoothing the edges of her skirt.

“You’re a pig,” she tells Theseus sweetly.

He shrugs from somewhere within his suit jacket before struggling upright.

“I bloody well made you lot laugh, didn’t I?” Theseus asks and accepts Newt’s offered hand when he settles Tina on the couch before ambling over. They eye each other warily until Theseus returns to Graves’ side, hesitating only a moment before taking the other man’s hand between his own. His expression clearly says, _fuck with me and I’ll hex you all into next week_ when everyone raises an eyebrow before looking away, the other couples settling back into comfortable familiarity as Queenie summons glasses of tea and whiskey.

Percival accepts a tumbler of whiskey and clears his throat. He waits until all eyes are on him before saying, “How about a toast?” The others raise their glasses as Percival glances down at his and Theseus’ entwined fingers. “To family...in all its forms.”

“To family!” As they drink, Newt leans close to Tina and whispers with a smirk, “Two weeks.”

She smiles back and drains her glass.


End file.
